Battlefield
by Mairemor
Summary: Who in the nine worlds could make Eric slump into a wing back chair with his head in his hands? Anger, lust, defiance and confrontation explode into a Battle Royal in casa Northman. Come take a peak, from a safe distance!


**WEEKLY ONE-SHOT CHALLENGE: WEEK #20**

**Theme:** To forgive is an act of compassion. It's not done because people deserve it. It's done because they need it.

**A/N: **_***sighs***__ Why do parents and teens who love each other, deep down, still manage to tear at each other in endless battles ? LOL because it's a necessary part of growing up and separating from the known (& thus despised) and familiar. __ This fic ties in with my AU Northman Trilogy fics , Understanding & Dark Storm Rising ( soon to be uploaded) which focus upon Sookie, Eric, and their supernatural twin daughters Kirsten, whose nature is more vampiric, and Adele, whose nature is more Fae. In my AU, they are Daughters of the Blood, girls born to magically unique women and vampires ancient enough to have acquired sufficient strength and magical power to sire a child. Dynasties are formed around these women. In this story, Kirsten and Adele are 17 years old and are telepathically bound to one another. Now, fans of TSN don't kill me for making De Castro their Guardian. Different fic, different character, at least in part. Also, I gave Eric another area to oversee. After 17 years, and the production of two valuable girls, I figure he's entitled : ) The Disney movie mentioned is Aladdin. Many thanks to my heroic beta, Meads, who took this fic on *hugs*  
_

_**In the desert**_

_**I saw a creature, naked, bestial,**_

_**Who, squatting upon the ground,**_

_**Held his heart in his hands,**_

_**And ate of it.**_

_**I said: "Is it good, friend?"**_

_**"It is bitter-bitter," he answered;**_

_**"But I like it**_

_**Because it is bitter,**_

_**And because it is my heart." **_

_**-Stephen Crane-**_

_*********************************  
**_

**Battlefront**

Sookie watched the sleek limousine travel up the long drive and, recalling one of her girls' favorite Disney movies, muttered, "Another suitor for the princess," under her breath. She was running late for her Great Books discussion group, and Eric had called to tell her that he was on his way home from Fangtasia. She groaned inwardly, and opened the door as the distinguished looking gentleman with an air of authority propelled himself toward her, thick portfolio in hand. Usually both of her girls had the good sense to respect proprieties, but lately tension crackled through the Northman home.

Eric and Kirsten, the household dynamos, were locking horns more and more often. Kirsten, who had always wanted to know the what, when, who, why, and how of everything, had looked at the suitor situation and had decided to rebel big time. When she wanted to, Kirsten could charm the birdies right down from the trees. Although she was strong minded, Kirsten was usually poised and intelligent. But, like her father, she was an elemental force, and tonight Sookie sensed that a big storm was brewing. Adele, their violin prodigy, was performing at a local benefit accompanied by Pam. More than any other person, gentle, steady Adele might have headed off an impending disaster. Sookie had a sinking feeling that Adele's absence would be felt tonight!

Over the years, Sookie had watched couple after couple divorce. She had also studied marriage customs in other cultures, both human and supernatural. She had learned that the best arranged marriages happen when parents help their children find their own partners according to their own desires. This was even more imperative for girls whose lives would be so long.

Yet, she knew that Kirsten was increasingly bitter about this process, and, as she helped her make a decision, Sookie was determined to make this process an act of love.

Eric had simply told their girls, "Since marriage is one of the most important decisions a person will ever make, your marriage choice must be is carefully thought out and planned."

His word was law, and he expected his girls to toe the line.

The girl's positions, particularly Kirsten's, as Daughters of the Blood, had affected every aspect of their lives. In their supernatural world the current barrage of suitors' portfolios was the only way to actually give the girls a say in the process.

Sookie's old-fashioned Southern hospitality kicked in as she greeted her guest, an amiable man with a perpetual smile, who had obviously succeeded in making himself an asset to his king. After exchanging pleasantries and pouring him a glass of Royalty Blend, Sookie showed him to Eric's office and placed the impressive portfolio upon Eric's desk.

Before excusing herself, she scanned its contents quickly. She took in handsome King Alaric's set face and clamped mouth. There were no traces of humor in that face. If a picture was worth a thousand words, this handsome, reserved stranger was not for their daughter, but she and Eric would talk later. If Kirsten was amenable, she would have to look at the information as well. Then, if the prospect was considered a "thumbs up," they would pass the information to the girls' guardian, King Felipe, for further vetting.

Her cell phone rang; Eric would be home in five minutes. She called out to Kirsten. Silence. Sensing trouble, Sookie reached out to touch Kirsten's mind and gasped as she received a thorough block, the telepathic equivalent of "Get lost!" Kirsten was sizzling with anger, and now was _not _the time for a confrontation.

*********************

After the gracious and lovely Mrs. Northman departed, Randal Sykes, the king of California's second in command, gazed out of the ceiling to floor windows of Eric Northman's personal office. Moonlight traced a silver path across the clear, still waters of the landscaped, two-tier pond and cascaded down upon the farmland, meadows, and woods of the Northman's estate. The Northman girls, America's only Daughters of the Blood, had been raised to walk between the supernatural and human worlds in this beautiful and verdant valley.

Because they would live for centuries and bear children for their husbands, the perfume of dignity and status surrounded these beautiful and powerful young women. As they neared their eighteenth birthday, ancient vampire lords, included his King Aleric, petitioned Eric Northman for Kirsten's hand in marriage. His king had many rivals and it was imperative that he focus and make a good impression upon her father, the Viking sheriff of Louisiana's areas 4 & 5.

Petite, exotic Adele was strongly Fae, and it was rumored that her great, great grandfather Prince Niall, favored a union with a Fae lord. But Kirsten was another matter. Most of the vampire world's focus had been upon Kirsten, the youngest full Daughter of the Blood walking the earth. Sometime after her eighteenth birthday, she would 'cross over", and although she would remain warm-blooded, her heart rate would slow, she would require less food, she would acquire the strength and abilities of her ancient sire, and her fangs would descend for the first time.

A ripple of pure lust passed through Randal and his fangs ran out as a five foot ten inch bronzed goddess in a minimal throng bikini walked onto the dock in the moonlight. He stood transfixed as Kirsten pulled the elastic from her hair, slid it around her wrist, and shook her head. Golden waves rippled down her back. Then, she flexed her beautiful long legs and plunged into the center of a pool. There was no doubt that this one was her father's daughter. There was inherent strength in her proud face; and it was, no doubt, the face of a queen. This was a woman that kings would fight for! She was every vampire male's fantasy; her perfect body combined the warmth of a living woman and the preternatural power of a vampire.

He had to grip his hand to refrain from stroking himself as he contemplated the many ecstasies such a woman would provide. Her svelte arms and legs moved languidly as she arched and floated on her back, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, her long golden hair fanned out about her. After a few minutes, she swam to the shallows and, inch by glorious inch, emerged from the water. Her lithe body, still slick with water, glowed in the moon light. When she turned and bent to pick up her towel displaying her firm, round buttocks, he had to fight back the urge to fly out of the window, pull her to him, and fuck her there and then. _That_ he could not do, but he was sure that his king would appreciate some candid photos.

Randall was so intent upon Kirsten, that he failed to realize that Eric Northman had entered the room until the sheriff was looming over him, eyes blazing and fangs extended.

"I hope that you have enjoyed the thorough eye fuck, you have given my daughter," he growled. "I guarantee that it will be the last that you will ever see of her."

Eric grabbed Randal's cell, and scanned the photos, his face becoming harder by the second. He then closed his large fist about the phone, and threw the crumpled mass into the trash.

"I do not allow unofficial photos of my daughters—ever."

Randall nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He shuddered to think of his punishment should his actions ruin his king's prospects. One word from Northman, and his career, and possibly his very existence, would lie in ruins.

Eric regarded the shorter vampire, his eyes stony with anger.

"Tell your king that we will give his petition due consideration and will respectfully inform him of our collective decision. You may leave."

When an abashed Randle had departed, Eric opened the window and called to Kirsten, his voice implacable.

"Kirsten! Cover yourself and come up here immediately."

Kirsten glared up at him, nodded curtly, slipped on a terry robe, and ascended the steps prepared for battle. For months now, ever since she had started dating Jacques Herveaux the Were captain of the wrestling team, her father had made her life hell. She had definitely had enough! Her face burned with shame just thinking of her father's warning to Jacques when he had picked her up for his Senior Prom, "If you _touch_ her, I will know!"

She had only been going with Jacques for a month and she wasn't going to have sex with him, but after Dad had threatened, she had decided to go as far as she could without doing the deed. She was so incredibly sick of the constant hovering of vampire and Fae protectors, sick of the constant maneuvering, and disgusted by the fact that her life was ruled by this horrible commitment to marry and mate with some ancient vampire male. She had accepted her father's dictates because they had seemed as immutable as the sunrise and sunset. Those days were over, and tonight she would let her father know just what she thought of his rules and of his world.

Eric waited impatiently for Kirsten. He would call Alcide Herveaux and inform him that their children had to stop dating. The trouble had all begun, when Sookie had softened him and he had allowed Kirsten to "date" Herveaux's eldest. Upon several occasions, she had broken their very lenient midnight curfew. Then, there was the night she had crawled into the house smelling of beer, and had puked half the night. When he ordered Adele and Sookie to leave her alone so that she would learn a lesson, they had both defied him; Kirsten was undermining his authority as head of the household. Even after a month without privileges, she had bounced back, bought a set of biker's leathers and zoomed off with Herveaux to a post championship party. And now there was the issue of this incredibly immodest dress.

Kirsten entered the room, head held high, and her Nordic blue eyes blazing. She knew why her father had called her; that's why she'd worn the minimal suit when the latest rep came calling.

Identical glacial blue eyes locked upon one another. He spoke to her in Old Norse. In his fury, he doubted whether he could even think clearly in English.

Beneath the veneer of calm, his voice held a terrible menace. "Explain why you shamed yourself and your family like a whore on display, _dottir."_

A ruddy flush raced like a fever across Kirsten's beautiful face, "I don't understand how swimming in my own backyard, in a bathing suit shamed anyone, fadir. Besides, all of the girls at school have these."

Eric scowled, a lethal calmness in his eyes "No, you were naked. Those scraps barely covered parts of you that are for your husband's eyes alone. That you would strut like a strumpet in front of a lackey from a foreign retinue…"

Kirsten stiffened, raised her chin, and snarled, "You should be pleased, fadir. I was simply showing my assets, to one of the bidders, like the brood mare I am! You're being a hypocrite! They vet me and peruse my "assets" and you know it! If you don't want them to look at me, dress me in a sack and cover my face! All my life you've told me what to do and I'm sick of it! I don't want to marry some old man. I don't want to marry anyone at all! Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone? I bet the fangbangers at Fangtasia wear worse and you're more than fine with that."

Kirsten's heart was pounding, and she knew her father could hear every beat. She had never cursed in front of him before!

A muscle flicked angrily in her father's jaw, and his voice was low and intense, "You are not a fangbanger whore. You are a noblewoman of two lines! It is time that you accepted your responsibilities as a Daughter of the Blood and ended this pretense of being a human girl. You will never be human and you _will_ accept the responsibilities you were born to."

Kirsten's eyes had narrowed to slits, "Or what?"

Eric was not sheriff of two areas for nothing.

"Or you will be forced to accept them. You are a devotee of the Lady Freya, who has claimed you from your conception. Accept your wyrd ; the gods have woven it!"

Kirsten laughed bitterly, "Oh the Lady Freya would hardly object to a little nakedness, she's a party girl!

Before Kirsten could blink, blood ran from the corner of her mouth. Raw hatred and hurt glittered in her eyes. She clenched her hands to keep herself from touching her face. Tears were getting closer, but not here, not ever in front of him! The part of her that was still a girl wanted to run to her room and never come out, and the part that was a furious young woman wanted to scratch and scratch hard.

Eric's voice was harsh, "If you were not my daughter, your punishment would be much, much worse than what you just received. You will speak of the Lady with respect, or you will know her wrath as well as your father's! The ways of the goddess are beyond your comprehension. Adele would never behave with such insolence!"

Kirsten stood a moment in sullen silence. Yes, Adele, his heart's darling, the daughter he loved with an aching tenderness she would never receive. The constraints that bound their relationship were about to crack and what she said, could not be unsaid. She would wound him with the truth and it was a dazzlingly, powerful feeling. She yielded quickly to her fury and spat out each venomous thought.

"Adele's too good to be your daughter! If you weren't so fucking focused on only seeing what you want to see , you'd know that every day she spends in Midgard, is draining her. The iron and the constant warding are poisoning her inch by inch. She hides it from you, but we're tied ; she can't hide it from _me _!"

Adele had made Kirsten swear an oath that she would never reveal how increasingly hard it was for her to live outside the borders of the Fae world of Alfheim. Kirsten loved her sister, but was too furious to care about her promise.

"Great-great grandfather is right! Adele will continue to weaken and get sick here. When he asked your permission to take her to Alfheim for the summers, you refused him because you're selfish! She stays here because she loves you and doesn't want to cause you pain! I hate you for making her suffer and for running my life like I was a pawn on your chessboard!"

A low growl rumbled from Eric's chest. His fangs were fully extended. Kirsten froze. One blow from her father would kill her, and until she came into her full strength, there was no tactic she could use to stop him. She had disrespected and enraged a vampire chieftain, and by their code, her sire had every right to punish her severely.

A thin chill hung between them, and Kirsten suddenly felt an acute sense of loss as her father regarded her as if she were no more than a minion.

"Enough! Are you possessed that your words have become so evil? I have been too lenient with you. Accept your wyrd as the gods have woven it! This rebelliousness will end tonight! You will cease your connection to the Were immediately. Destroy that scrap of cloth, and never again enter my presence without showing me the respect which you owe me!"

Kirsten recovered herself enough to touch her forehead in deference as the old customs required. She would never grovel! She spoke in the most formal declension of Old Norse.

"Do I have your permission to retire, Fadir?"

Eric regarded her coldly, "Go to your room. I will inform you of further punishment for your brazen behavior tomorrow. And, dottir, believe me when I tell you, your pretense of a human life is over forever."

For a moment, the shock of defeat held her immobile, then the last traces of her resistance vanished. Without another word, she whirled, and left the room shutting the door quietly behind her.

Eric heard Kirsten ascend the steps, slam the door to her room and begin to sob uncontrollably just as Sookie walked in the front door. She knew immediately that she had walked into the aftermath of a battle royal. He heard his wife call gently to Kirsten, before ascending the steps.

He sat down in a leather wing back chair and put his head into his hands. Truly, daughters were the heart's needles! Every day since their conception, he had done nothing but strive to protect them, to love them, to raise them within the belief structure to which they were attached, to hone their unique skills, and to fill their lives with beauty.

He had applied one thousand years of experience to those ends, and yet he had failed. Kirsten's words had sliced him deeply, and the knowledge that there was truth in them twisted and turned within him.

Since she was very young, he had known of Adele's burden, but he couldn't bear to give her up. Every year, when Niall petitioned him, he would answer, "Not yet," while Adele, his beloved daughter, suffered silently. He must let her go to the Fae soon, and that parting would be as bitter as gall.

Sookie entered the room quietly, encircled him with her arms, and rested her head upon his shoulder. She sighed heavily.

"She's sorry, you know. She fights against us, like any teen would. It's even harder because she's a supe"

Eric shook his head, "What was said and done cannot be undone."

Her little hands stroked his broad shoulders, "That's true. And you hit her Eric, for the first and _last_ time ever, you hit her in anger! That can't be undone either; and she will remember that slap all of her long life. Let's hope that a little of what I've taught her about forgiveness has sunken in."

Eric shook his head, "She has aligned herself with the speck of humanity within herself. None of us, not even the gods themselves, can escape the web of wyrd."

Sookie kissed his cool cheek, "I told you once that I wanted to be free to live my own life as much as any person can. I told her that story. She'll come to accept her otherness much sooner than I did! You know, when I was Kirsten's age, Jason took all of my money and spent it on his friends without even telling me."

Eric grunted, "That sounds like Jason, alright."

Sookie chuckled, "Yes it does! It had taken me months to save that money. I was so mad that I thought I'd never forgive him; he was too embarrassed and humiliated to ask for forgiveness. Then my Gran sat down with me and gave me some very good advice which I'm passing on to you in hope that you'll see the sense of it. She told me 'To forgive is an act of compassion. It's not done because people deserve it. It's done because they need it.' You've hurt each other honey, and you're both as stubborn as mules! Do you really want to spend centuries holding a grudge?"

Eric sat absolutely still. When they had first become bonded and pledged, it had seemed that he and Sookie disagreed on the very nature and meaning of love. Yet, over the course of the years they had forged their own meaning together. She was right, of course. Kirsten was almost a grown woman and they had reached a point where their relationship had to be resolved before it soured over the years and their pride drove then irrevocably apart.

Eric rose and kissed his wife. The mischievous look had returned to his eyes.

"You're right, my lover. Human, divine, or otherwise, the day of reckoning can't be postponed forever. I'll go to her now."

As her husband floated upstairs, Sookie exhaled a long sigh of relief. Peace had returned to their little patch of heaven, at least until the next storm arose.

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